Amico Dum Opitulor
by PotoPerson
Summary: It is difficult at times being the best friend of a great man. At times it can make one feel that they have no purpose, quietly sitting in their shadow. But for those most noble of friends there is a deeper sense of purpose to it after all. A conversation between Herbert Pocket of Charles Dickens' "Great Expectations" and Henry Clerval of Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein".


_Nihil pretio parco, amico dum opitulor -I spare no cost so long as I serve my friend_

-Proverb

The circumstances that brought me to Scotland from Cairo were ones of business. Normally, my business does not require a return to Britain at all-certainly not to our neighbors to the North- but it so happened that a man with one of the companies with which we do business had insisted to my own business partner to rendezvous with him in Perth and, deciding that my person may be more pleasing to the man that was to be met with, wrote to me asking if I would meet with him, to which I replied that I most gladly would and arrived there without delay. When the business for which I arrived had concluded, I strolled along the river on Tay street. The twilight air breathed marvelously about me as the street lights were lit. Dark clouds gathered in the distance, but above the sky shone gold relieving any need to worry about the clouds as of yet.

I decided that I craved the company of others and walked until I found a restaurant situated with a most pleasant view of the Tay and entered. It was a lively, crowded place which was agreeable to my current frame of mind. It was, as I said before, crowded however and the man who was to show me to my seat looked about fretfully at the lack of open tables, fearful that he should lose my business. I smile though, calming his fears by assuring him that I would certainly not mind taking an occupied table if the one sitting there was willing to have me with them. The man seemed ready to kiss me, but instead showed me with a flourish to a table near one of the restaurant's windows that was occupied by a gentleman drinking tea. When the man showing me to my seat inquired if I may be allowed to share his table the man said he would not mind at all and I took my place, ordered my food, and the man departed.

My table mate smiled at me amiably, setting down his cup. I smile in return, pleased by the general air of friendliness there was already. I reached my hand across the table to him.

"Well, let's have introductions then. My name is Herbert Pocket."

My table mate shook my hand. "Henry Clerval, sir, a pleasure to meet you," he replied, his voice colored with a French accent, "I take it from your accent you are not from Scotland." I told him that I was from England and he clasped his hands in delight. "Oh, England! We have passed such a wonderful time there. Such history! Such magnificent cities! Tell me, sir, have you ever been to London?"

I replied that I had and he was off once more, praising my country's capital and its well learned men and wonderful societies with the ardor of any Englishman. I asked him where he was from and he informed me that he hailed from Geneva and had come to Scotland spontaneously after being invited there from where he was visiting in London (at which point he had to take yet another moment to offer more praise to the beauty and society of my city). He had been in London accompanying his friend on his travels. This friend, whom he identified as one M. Victor Frankenstein, had been traveling with him until two months ago when he had elected to tour Scotland by himself. He asked me what had brought me to Scotland and I told him of my travels. We got to discussing business and trade for a time (his father evidently was a tradesman as well) until I inquired about his friend. At this his cheerful countenance was touched just slightly by sadness.

"He has not told me why he has endeavored to travel Scotland alone. He has had many difficult times, my friend has. He fell ill for many months, then some time after coming to himself he found that his young brother that been murdered and a good friend of the family whom we believe to be innocent was executed for it. It seems to me that he has not been the same since. He falls into dreadful melancholies and shuns the society of man. I have tried to raise his spirits and for a time it seems to work, then once more he breathes his sighs. When he left he assured me he would return in lighter spirits. I hope that will be true."

I expressed my consolations and hopes that it would be the as well. "I too have a good friend who has faced much hardship. I remember in the days when we both still dwelled in London what heavy sighs Handel breathed."

"What sort of hardships did your friend face. Handel did you say?"

"Hm? Oh, he was not christened Handel. He's named Philip, called Pip by most people who know him, but after meeting him I decided that the name Handel suites him more. As for his hardships, at the time I think of they weren't nearly so serious as all of that. Usually the sighs were over women, well, one woman in particular, or because he had run himself into debt. I must confess I was bemoaning the same things along with him in those days. Still, he has faced hardships since. And though he has been made a better man for it all I think there are moments when I still see the shadows of those times on him that I do not know how to cure."

"I as well," he said.

At that moment our attention was diverted by the arrival of my food. Clerval ordered a wine from the man as well and for several minutes our attention was devoted to food and drink and brooding over the sadness of our respective friends. After a time my companion's good natured smile returned.

"I will say though," he said after a time. "As much as I care for my friend, and I do care for him deeply, there are certainly times that man puts me through hell."

I laughed in agreement. "I hear that. I couldn't tell you how many times I have done things I regretted, specifically where money is concerned, because of his suggestion. I remember how many times he convinced me to buy some trifle or to spend a night at a club when I had not the money to spare for it because it was 'valuable for our education', or so he claimed. I am sure he never had to spend a brass fathering on half the things he bought back when he had the means to buy it."

"Do you recall the fever I mentioned earlier? I was the only one who was present at the time and therefore was the one to tend to him the entire time of his illness. Of course, I was the one to do it and I was happy to do it, but there were times when, in his fever, he ranted and raved like a lunatic. It frightened me terribly. I thought he was possessed the way he muttered over the demon his own hand had created."

"Demon you say? Rather odd, what do you think he meant by saying that? "

He threw up his hands in a gesture of jesting exasperation. "Who can say? To uncover the inner workings of the mind of Victor Frankenstein is to draw diamonds from the deepest pits of the mountains with a teaspoon as a pick. Perhaps if you are fortunate enough to be counted among his close relations you may get a wooden kitchen spoon, but you catch my drift. You should have heard him during the days he was a disciple of Agrippa and the like and he made it his life ambition to uncover the elixir of life. Imagine! Me and Elizabeth, that is his cousin Elizabeth, have heard our fair share of talk."

"Handel too. Well, not on the point of the Elixir of life, I will admit that is rather bazaar, but I suppose that our tale must be equally as Bazaar. You aren't a member of any police force are you?"

He told me he was not in wonder. "Well, I shan't bore you with the details, but suffice it to say we had an adventure that may have ended in death, arrest, or both for the two of us and my dearest fiancé of the time. Don't get me wrong, as you have said I was more than glad to do it, but at the same time I am surprised that I have not gone grey with the worry of it all. The stress of it nearly killed Handel. He fell ill for many months as your friend had while I was in Cairo. I could not care for him as you did for the distance, but I might as well have for all the thought and bad dreams I dedicated to the subject."

"Well! This Handel is quite fortunate to have a man like you as a friend."

"And your Victor as well."

Clerval lifted his glass to me. "A toast then, to our friends."

I lifted mine as well. "A toast to our friends, and for all that we put up with for the both of them."

We toasted and drank to them. As we replaced our glasses though, I could not help but remark thoughtfully, "Still, in spite of it all, all the sleepless nights and all the debt, I would not have it any other way. If I was to be honest with myself, I would certainly go through it all again for his sake."

Clerval sighed a laugh. "You speak the truth, my friend. After all, I have spent all these months among the society of men I do not know simply so he could have his months of solitude doing God knows what. It makes one wonder."

"Wonder what?"

He stared thoughtfully, with an air of dole into his glass. "Why are their men like us to accompany men like them? I cannot speak for Handel, but for Victor he has always been the one to be regarded for his intellect and his standing. I have always been there for him at his side, and as you say I would not have it any other way, but it makes one wonder why one is even important. Why, who's to say he would notice if I was gone?"

I assured him that Victor would likely be devastated if he was gone (not that I knew him, mind you). I understood the sentiment well. On Pip, he seemed to be the one far more regarded than I was whether he had money or did not. Even among my relatives when they spoke of him with envy there was an air of grudging respect. Why be there at all then?

"I suppose," I said after Clerval's sadness had been sufficiently pacified, "To answer your first question, the reason that there are men like us to accompany men like them is because men like them need men like us. For all their melancholies and their dreams and their tempers and renown. If they didn't have people like us to stand as firm constants in a world as madly shifting as theirs, who knows where they would be? They might go mad. We offer a bit of sanity, wouldn't you say?"

This sentiment seemed to strike Clerval most poignantly and he fell into a silence for some time, looking out of the window. The dark clouds seemed to have drawn closer while we had dined and talked , and they stood more impending now, ready to usher in the tempest. In spite of the oncoming gloom, Clerval smiled.

"My friend, I believe you are right. I thank you for your words. I must confess, my friend's abandonment had left me a in a gloom myself, but your words have assured me wondrously well. I had written him just yesterday that he should meet me here in Perth, but I do believe I may travel up to Orkney and meet him myself. I doubt I shall beat his letter, but I do not doubt that I shall meet him as he travels in this direction. I dare say that the clear air of Northern Scotland shall not kill me."

I agreed with him heartily in this sentiment and our meal continued on a much happier note. After dinner, we walked a while along the Tay until he endeavored to return to his place of lodgings to prepare for his intended early departure for Orkney. I bid him adieu, not before telling him he may write me in Cairo any time, and returned to my own place of lodgings to prepare for my own departure for Cairo. I never saw or heard from that man I met from Geneva again. I think on him occasionally, wondering if he did reach the Orkney isles. I like to think that he did and that Victor Frankenstein was delighted to see him. Who can say though, really? If life has taught me one thing it is that it can be most unpredictable, and the only thing one can do in spite of it is try to be as steadfast as one can. My good friend Handel taught me that skill.

**A/N: This was actually written as an assignment for one of my English classes Sophmore year of college that was focused on the novel. I had to pick two characters from two of the novels we had read and write a conversation between them written in the style of one of the novels represented in the story (in my case the first person style of _Great Expectations_) and delve into themes of the novel and comparing and contrasting the role of the two selected characters. In my case, it was the bros XD Thanks for reading! **


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